1936-12-09 — Page 42

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CHINA MAIL CHRISTMAS SUPPLEMENT

MANHATTAN CAROL

(Continued from Page 5)

"Is he related to Winks?" said Dan Fenton cautiously. The lovely eyes opened wide. “Oh, no, darling. They simply loathe each other. It's too amusing. Winks is really too greedy. you know. Funny Winks." She laughed again.

"I wonder." thought Dan Fenton, Tif Winks is a horse. It might be. Then again, it might not. It's a question *”

"Well, as I was saying" he said.

"Oh, Dan. I forgot to ask—” she said at the same moment. "Sorry. Diana

—“

"No-it wasn't anything. Dan. Just-"

They stared at each other with fixed and friendly smiles. And somewhere a door-bell trilled. "It's Winks," thought Dan Fenton dully. “And he's an alarm-clock. No, maybe he's still a horse.”

Diana patted his hand-it was odd not to feel an electric cur- rent when she did so.

“Heavens!" she said tragically. "It's the thundering herd. Well, we'll just sneak away, in a corner, as soon as we decently can. I haven't asked you half the things—”·

They were. Dan Fenton assured himself, gay, bright. amusing. sophisticated people. They must be. Diana had had them in the old days, and Diana would have them still Besides, they had names and he had heard of some of the names, even in Range City. The man who looked rather like a withered but-petulant mouse was undoubtedly the famous playwright-he had caught the name quite distinctly; and the man who looked as if he wore cor- sets bad a title as well.. Then there were Sue Damian, who WLS too divine and Bunny Angus, who Was too amusing. A great many well-dressed people, many of them quite rich, and all talking rather loudly. A great many cocktails made people talk rather loudly. And there were hot things on trays, and cold things on trays. He wasn't having any more cocktails, after the first. with the rum in it. But the cream-cheese-and-chives thing was good. They often had it at home.

"He comes from Ranger City.” said Diana. laughing. "Isn't it too divine**

The light, buoyant figure passed on among her guests. It was remarkable, thought Dan Fenton respectfully, how Diana had kept her youth. He had seen a butterfly under glass once, the wings brilliant with colour. You would not have called it artificial-but it was no longer a butterfly. The wings, if you touched them, would be brittle and dry.

He wanted to say: "Are you happy? And why did you marry Bruce Davenport in the first place? And where has it all gone? Was it only youth-was it all youth-the magic and the swiftness? Or was it just that I didn't have any sense?”

Instead he explained about Range City, politely, to the girl be- side him. She had a cream-white skin, dark eyes and an arrogant. discontented mouth.

"Dear Diana." said the girl, in a pause, she's looking too rappi turous, isn't she? I don't know how she does it. I'd be a wreck —but a wreck! And she practically never has the jitters. I've only seen her with the real jitters twice."

Is that a necessary part of the party?" said Dan Fenton. "Oh, my dear!" the girl cried. "That's too divine! But of course, the holidays make anyone jittery-too cheerful and Dickensy and saddening. But-" She looked at her watch, and screamed. "My dear!" she said. "I müst fy!”

She flew, Dan Fenton noticed, in the direction of the cocktail- shaker, and remained there, chatting animatedly with the man like a petulant mouse" He found himself, with a slight sensation of nightmare, on the edge of a group of three near a Chicago paint- ing. They hunched their shoulders a little as if to guard them- selves from his nearer approach. He heart a voice say, "Yo---I

い

But when he looked across the room for Diana, he suddenly knew that he would not tell her. She was there, in the centre of a group -she was there, being very animated. She liked this-she liked it all the peacock-noise and the smart second-hand sayings-the spinning bright-coloured wheel that had seemed so gayly painted in youth. But he knew that he didn't want it any more.

"Oh, sorry." said a voice, as his elbow was jogged and a splash of lukewarm cocktail lit on the back of his hand. "Awfly sorry. But it's rather a crush-what?”

"It's my fault," said Fenton, wiping his hand. "I'm from the great open spaces. Though we do have cocktail parties there, in our simple way."

1i

"I say!" said the boy excitedly. "Great open spaces? Then you're Mr. Fenton, of course. Diana told me-been looking for you and all that. My name's Ridley, by the way. Very nice to have you here-heard so much of you—"

"It's very pleasant to meet you," said Dan. He hoped that he wasn't staring, as they shook hands. He had expected many things of Diana's third husband. But he had not expected this - this curly-haired child with the nice manners and the nervous, agree- able smile. He can't be more than twenty," thought Dan. "No, Im wrong the English are different-he might be twenty-five.”

"I say," said Nigel Ridley. "Didn't mean to stare. But-well- heard so much about you from Diana-didn't quite realize "

"He's going to call me 'sir' in a minute," thought Dan. Aloud, he said: "Of course that was a good many years ago."

"Quite," said the Englishman, "Quite." He laughed a little. "Hope I'm not making an ass of myself," he said. "But I got the impression of quite a different sort of person-well, rather a blood, and all that, if you know what I mean. Silly of me."

"Not at all." said Dan.. It occurred to him that Mr. Ridley was very young. Only some one very young would take Diana's des criptions for gospel. He felt, abruptly, sorry for Mr. Ridley. was not what he had expected to feel.

It

"Diana is very generous to her friends." he said. "Isn't she said Mr. Ridley enthusiastically. His eyes roamed about the room. "Rather wonderful, you know," he said boyishly. "Of course, knew she was very popular. But still-makes one feel quite responsible-so many good chaps she might have married. Well, try to live up to it-and after all, she did pick me, don't you' know."

"I'm sure you'll be very happy," said Dan, shaking him by the hand for the second time.

"Stout chap!" said Mr. Ridley, affected. His eyes. Dan Fenton noticed, had a certain fixity of gaze-the fixity of those who drink without showing it until the final and decorous collapse...

He found himself wiping his forehead with his handkerchief. It was, he thought, a Western gesture, but he didn't mind. He mur- mured to Mr. Ridley and started to slip his way politely through the crowd. As he reached the door, he turned for a last glance. The party was in full swing-the voices were getting shriller, ash- trays more cluttered. Over all the noise and the scramble, be heard Diana's light, meaningless laughter. It wasn't meant for an epitaph-but it would do well enough.

Snow had started to fall when he got to the street-he breathed gratefully of that clean, impeccable air. It seemed very cool and pleasant, after the smoke and the shrillness. A thicker. snow would be falling in Range City, and his children would be out in it. shouting, with flushed cheeks. To-morrow he'd see if they carried the Range City Times-Enquirer at that news-stand near the Grand Central.

His right hand. jammed in his pocket, touched a small flat box- the cigarette-case he had bought for Trin. He could see it now. expensive, silly and glittering-the sort of present you bought to

don't think Diana takes anything-it always shows in the eyes please your own vanity a present for the Diana of ten years ago.

and moved hastily away...

"Aren't you Dan Fenton?" said a voice. “I'd never have known you!"*

Fenton extended a hand and groped for a name. Of course! Grant Billingston!

“No, I'd never have known you in the world," said Grant Eil-` lingston with satisfaction. "Been out of town, haven't you?".

"Yes," said Dan Fenton, "I've been out of town.”

"Well," said Grant Billingston cordially-they had called him "Wormy." in college, Dan Fenton remembered,—“I "don't get in to Diana's parties very often myself. But I like to cheer the old girl up new and then, when I can."

"That's awfully nice of you," said Fenton softly.

"Oh, well,” said Billington tolerantly, “live and let live, you know-and she's still very attractive-very attractive." And he gave what Dan Fenton could only think of as a mental nudge. ́A. sudden desire possessed Dan Fenton to take Mr. Billingston's face in his hand and push. Then he thought of something else.. -

"Sorry to see you looking so badly, Grant," he said. "Liver?"!: "Liver?" said Grant Billingston, dum-founded. “Why, I played eighteen holes of golf only.”

“Ah," said Dan Fenton weightily, "that's just it. Can't over- exercise at our age, you know. Too hard on the heart. Reminds me of poor Chick Wilson-ob, well, you wouldn't know him—just about your build, too. Poor Chick!”.

"But listen!" yammered Mr. Billingston. “Listen! Do you really think--"

"It's nice to have seen you, Grant," said Fenton sorrowfully, and mored away. When he was safe behind a screen of cocktail-` drinkers, he chuckled internally. Wormy Billingston would spend: the holidays having x-rays taken-and serve him right. But it was ridiculous to have that wretched little rich hypochondriac patronizing Diana. He'd tell Diana about it, and they'd have a good laugh.

But it didn't happen to be good enough for Trina, with her Indian stoicism and her deep warmth. He'd take it back to-morrow and get something just as glittering but real. It would have to be real, for Trina was real. The time after Janice was born and the time in 2 when they thought they'd lost everything. and a dozen, a hundred times. And he'd almost missed.it, almost missed the hun- ger and the peace and the steadfastness, the comradeship and the thousand small memories that made up life, because of a dream of youth and a gilded apple. But he hadn't, quite. It was too late now to take up the Levinsons on their Christmas invitation, even if they wanted. But he and Trina would have Christmas, hotel or ro hotel. Only first-

Taxi!" he shouted. "The Plaza! And hurry!" Then, a mo- ment later, he rapped on the glass."

No-listen, ** be said. "Drive down Fifth till you see a Santa Claus. Then I'll tell you what to do."

*Buyin' reindeer this early, Chief?" muttered the driver, but obey- ed. The taxi slowed to a stop. Dan Fenton leaped from it. "Just a minute!" he flung over his shoulder. Then he turned to a sur. prised and weary Santa Claus who rang his bell in the face of the passers-by,

in the face of t

"How much will you do for ten dollars?" said Dan Fenton, the respected business-man of Range City. "Well, I want you to do just this: I want you to kick me. Hard! I can't do it myself. But I know it ought to be done."

"Say, buddy, what's eatin' you?" said the Santa Claus uneasily, his eyes roaming for a policeman. Dan Fenton laughed boyishly.

"Oh, all right, he said. "You needn't. I guess I'll remember, anyway. And here's the ten. But just tell me the nearest place where I can buy a Christmas tree-a real one that you can put in a hotel room. You see, I'm a stranger in town, and I've got to have one for my wife!"

(THE END)